


Subtle Innuendos Follow

by Arwyn



Category: due South
Genre: Adam Ant - Freeform, Dead!Bob - Freeform, Experimental Style, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Song Lyrics, dead!bob ex machina, experimental formatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwyn/pseuds/Arwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Don't drink, don't smoke, what do you do?</em>
</p><p>Fraser answers Ray's question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtle Innuendos Follow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HereEatThisKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereEatThisKitten/gifts).



> The creation of this... story... is due entirely to the following three factors:
> 
> 1) The existence of Adam Ant's Goody Two Shoes, particularly [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27Tj-Xo_eqI).
> 
> 2) The amazing character study [fanvid set to above mentioned song](http://laurashapiro.dreamwidth.org/165780.html).
> 
> 3) [HereEatThisKitten](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HereEatThisKitten/pseuds/HereEatThisKitten), who is terrible, and both demanded I write this and provided the fix when I wrote myself into a corner. All ~~blame~~ thanks go to her. I apologize for killing you with the following imagery, HETK. Please let this kind fictional Mountie offer you mouth-to-mouth to revive you...

Ben was distantly aware that Ray -- once he stopped his ridiculous protests against Ben doing the dinner dishes, honestly; a stitch in time saves nine, after all, and these would be much easier to wash while fresh, and any incidental ~~elongation~~ prolonging of his time ~~in Ray’s company~~ , in Ray's apartment, while simultaneously avoiding the ~~temptations~~ er, ~~languor~~ _laziness_ of idle time on Ray’s couch, well: that was purely incidental to the thrift and good housekeeping of doing the washing up.

Ben cracked his neck. Start again.

Ben was distantly aware that Ray had moved into the living room and was flipping through his alarmingly extensive and diverse modern record collection ("These aren’t modern, Fraser, they’re _vinyl_ , they’re _classic_ . Let me introduce you to your new friend, real modern guy, hip as they come: Mr _Cee Dee_ ." Ben smiled at the memory). He didn’t think much of it -- he never thought much of Ray, ~~of the sweat-leather-chemical scent of him, of the taut muscles of his back, of the tantalizing glimpses of his unique tattoo~~ just of the job in front of him, the dishes, the persistence of this spot, oh dear, no, that was the plate design -- but he did pause in his work, momentarily of course, when he heard Ray’s distinctive cackle of triumph. Ben resumed scrubbing (slowly, so as to ~~visualize Ray’s movements better~~ minimize the sound pollution of the splashes), as a rapid beat began playing.

By the time the trumpet flourishes established their pattern and the lyrics began, ~~Ray’s hips thrust into~~ Ray entered the room, ~~thrusting~~ dancing ~~with his hips~~ in a most ~~riveting~~ peculiar ~~thrusting~~ bopping manner. He had rolled up his sleeves, higher even than normal, and… tied a _knot_ in his _shirt_?! revealing a ~~mouthwatering~~ indecorous sliver of abdomen.

"Hey, Fraser! It’s your song!"

Ray was grinning at him, and Ben’s ~~pants~~ hands were getting uncomfortable. He put down the dishes (a soak would do them well; less scrubbing later), and wiped his hands off. Ray was continuing his… let’s call it a dance, now muttering along to the words. " _Put on a little makeup, makeup, make sure they get your good side, good side_."

Ben swallowed around the sudden flood in his mouth, and continued to focus on ~~the images in his mind~~ , ~~the rhythmic thrust of Ray’s hips~~ , his partner’s face. "I don’t see what, precisely, this has to do with--"

The music ~~swelled~~ crescendoed, and Ray advanced, snapping his fingers. " _Goody two, goody two, goody goody two shoes_."

Ben shut his mouth with a snap. Ray was dancing right in front of him now.

" _Don’t drink, don’t smoke: what do you do?_ Other than dishes, I guess." Ben just saw the crinkles around Ray’s eyes deepen, as they only did when he was teasing Ben, before Ray turned into a leg-lifting spin.

"I… is this what you think of me?"

"Sounds perfectly admirable to me, Son." Ben’s dad, his appearance as immaculate as it was ill-timed, as always, was peering into the sink. "Though if you leave these dishes much longer--"

" _Did I ask for your opinion?_ "

Ray paused, blinking at him. "What was that?"

Ben rubbed his eyebrow. "Not… it’s not the song I’d choose."

"Yeah? Gonna tell me what’s wrong with it?"

_Subtle innuendos follow..._

"The Yank’s trying to bait you, Son. Gotta nip that in the bud."

Oh that was too much.

"I think I will."

He closed the distance between them, unblinking, until he was standing directly in front of Ray. Ray was near-frozen, now, hips canted to the side, eyes locked on Ben’s, ~~where they belonged~~ , where Ben wanted them.

_What do you do?_

"Yeah?" He could feel Ray’s breath. He breathed it in, and Ray’s eyes widened further.

"Benton! Benton, what on earth--?"

"There is, I assure you," Ben’s voice was low in his throat, "something inside."

Christ! Ben kept his eyes open, even as Ray’s fluttered nearly shut, as their ~~hips~~ _erections_ brushed together.

Ray swallowed, and his eyes -- those eyes! framed by those lashes! -- sprang open, staring straight into Ben’s.

Ben let go of ~~the view~~ the enticing, the _enchanting_ view, let his gaze soften as his head tilted, feeling Ray’s do the same, and felt Ray’s soft, stubble-surrounded lips graze his, as the music played, triumphant, around them, his father’s sputtering overridden by Ray’s final whisper:

"Figured there must be."


End file.
